


Clean Cut

by MeChewChew



Series: Mechewchew's Whumptober2020 [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeChewChew/pseuds/MeChewChew
Summary: Tseng comes back from prison and gets revenge on the man that kept him and Rufus apart for all these years.Sweeney Todd AU
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Series: Mechewchew's Whumptober2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965250
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Clean Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Day 10: They Look so Pretty when They Bleed

He sails back to London that night, the first time in years since he’s been sent off to some desecrate island prison. His hair has grown past his shoulder, touching his waist and neatly tied back, out of his face. The sea breeze bites his cheeks, but he pays it no mind as the dull land comes into sight. A smile crawls onto his face, a wild glint in his eye as he steps onto the dock.  
Finally.

He makes his way to the familiar bar on the edge of town, near his old shop on Fleet Street. Run down, yet still standing. Elena rests against the counter, bored. It _is_ after hours after all. She lights up when he steps through the doors, jumps over the counter and tackles him in an embrace.

“Tseng! You’re back! I’m so-”

He pats her back with a fond chuckle as she rambles, listening as she takes him to the backroom and rummages through dusty boxes until she pulls out a silver box. Polished.

With a smooth flick, he opens it and lets out a bated breath at the delight it holds inside. His razors, in perfect condition, just like the day he left them. _Was wrenched away from them._

Tseng reopens his barber shop the next day, under a new name, a new guise. The people flock to him, proclaiming about how he has the closest shave in town.

It doesn’t take long for one of _his_ men to come in, looking for the expertise of the best man in the city. Heidegger sits down on the chair, leans back, and Tseng gets to work.

“You seem familiar,” Heidegger says as Tseng spreads the shaving cream on him.

“Oh?” Tseng feigns ignorance, sharpening his blade.

“Like some criminal we dealt with a handful of years ago.” Heidegger grunts, stills when the razor meets his flesh and shaves. He’s quick about it, the fastest in town besides the best.

“Tell me about him.”

“Some kid, maybe in his early adulthood. We found him courting the Duke’s son.”

“And…what happened to him?”

Heidegger lets out an ugly laugh, “Sent him off to some jail. Haven’t heard anything since that day. Kid’s probably dead now.”

Tseng’s already finished, wipes down his face. He sits him back up, hands him a mirror, barely concealing his excitement. “And what of the Duke’s son?”

“Rufus?” Heidegger eyes himself in the mirror, turning to admire the view. “He’s been locked up in his room. The Duke doesn’t even let him out for parties anymore. What a shame, the boy’s just as stunning as his mother was.”

“The people were right about you, this is the best shave I’ve had in my-” Heidegger sees him through the mirror, something clicks in his mind. He gasps, barely has time to accuse him of his real identity.

“You-!”

Tseng smiles as he leans over and pulls the shears across his neck, meeting resistance at his windpipe, but nothing a little force can’t cut through. Blood gushes out from his throat, spilling down his chest and covering Tseng’s gloves. He barely notices the red dying his vest, seeping into the white of his shirt.

The body’s still twitching when Tseng activates the contraption that opens up the floor in front of them and he pushes the body in. Elena comes in a moment later and fusses over his ruined clothing. He simply shrugs and peels his gloves off, tossing them down into the hole before it closes back up into a regular wood floor.

They drink that night; him, Elena, Reno, and Rude. The two knuckleheads have been helping Elena out, serving and tossing out any unsightly patrons. It’s not until the end of the night when they’ve begun to sober up that Tseng asks if they know where his lover is.

Reno repeats the same thing as Heidegger, looks away when he tells him that they cross by it daily to check up on him and everyday Rufus looks out at them, through the bars on his window.

Tseng nods, contains the roar in his stomach telling him to act, and makes a plan.

In the coming month, Tseng makes quick work of the Duke’s men. One shave. Two. The bodies are never found, their portraits spread across town looking for them.

Reno and Rude make good work building a machine to mash up the bodies, seasoning them so they taste just delightful.

Elena’s bar becomes famous for her meat pies.

It’s not until a few weeks later that the Duke finally steps into his shop. He’s just as disgusting as he remembers him, maybe a little more pudgy.

“Welcome, Duke. It’s quite an honor to see you in my humble shop.” Tseng greets, wrapping a cape around him as he sits in the chair.

“How can I not? When you’re the talk of the year.” The Duke lays back, closes his eyes as Tseng spreads the shaving cream across him.

“You’re too kind, Sir.” Tseng praises, voice low; smooth. Velvet.

He sharpens his blade, brings it down to his neck.

And shaves a neat line up his jaw.

On the other side of town, Reno and Rude bust into the Duke’s mansion, silencing anyone who sees them. A poor maid, a goodhearted butler, a few guards here and there.

They run up an ungodly amount of stairs, pant as they unlock the door in the highest part of the house. The door creaks open and Rufus sits by his windowsill, fully dressed in his usual white waistcoat, embroidered with only the finest gold thread. Only the best for daddy’s only child.

He glances over at them, lips curled up in the slightest smile, and stands up, coat falling lightly around him.

_“You’re late.”_

Tseng scrapes up the last of the cream on his razor, not a cut on the Duke’s face as he finishes up.

“I heard from one of your men about the incident with your son years ago,” Tseng mentions casually, wiping his shears clean with a cloth.

“The boy’s naive. Was going to let some silly neighborhood boy from the worst parts of town defile him. He’s learned his lesson now.” The Duke grunts, looking at the mirror that Tseng holds in front of him, glances up at him for a moment before back down.

It’s not until he glances back up at Tseng again and sees the blade glinting in his hand that he makes the connection. Tseng relishes in the gasp that leaves his mouth, grins until his teeth are showing as the man sputters.

“Y-You’re! This is impossible. You should be in jail!” He tries to make a run and Tseng grabs him by the shoulder before he can bolt, forces him back into the chair with a hand against his chest, crushing him, smiling when he feels his ribs crack.

“I was just such a good prisoner, they released me early. Isn’t that nice of them?” Tseng says, voice dripping with venom as he holds the blade against the Duke’s neck.

“You can’t do this!” He yells, tries to push against Tseng. “I have money, lots of it! You can have as much as you want!”

Tseng laughs, presses into his skin until a stream of blood starts dripping down, staining his collar. “You have something much more valuable to me than money, my good Duke.”

The Duke gasps, eyes widening, a sneer on his face. “Stay away from my-”

“Thank you,” Tseng moves the razor to rest against the Duke’s lips, silencing him. “For keeping him…safe. For me.”

The man glares at him, won’t speak in danger of cutting himself.

“Don’t worry, Duke,” Tseng slowly trails the tip of the blade down his chin, back to rest against his adam’s apple, “I’ll take good care of him.”

“You-!”

Tseng turns and pulls his blade across slowly, a sickening smile on his face as it cuts smoothly across his trachea. The Duke convulses in his hold as he cuts, blood spewing all over him. But Tseng doesn’t mind; doesn’t care.

He watches the life fade out of his eyes, the man who condemned him and his lover to a life of isolation for years. Gone.

_It feels good._

He steps aside once the body’s gone still. His precious razor is wiped clean and locked into his polished box again. He activates the floor and shoves the body into the dark pit. It will be Elena’s finest batch of meat for her pies.

The door creaks open and Tseng turns, takes in the sight of his lover. As beautiful as ever, hair shining and skin just as fair. Rufus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the blood drying on his clothes, doesn’t even see it as he stares into brown eyes.

_“Tseng.”_

How long has it been since he heard his name from those soft lips, whispered lovingly in the still of night before he had to escape out the window?

He steps towards Rufus, slips his own glove off with his teeth and lets it fall to the ground. He bows just slightly, takes Rufus’ hand in his, and places a kiss on his knuckles.

Rufus turns his hand and grabs Tseng’s, pulling him forward into an embrace. They don’t know how long they stand there, hands laced around each others’ bodies, holding each other tightly as they turn in for a kiss.

Red seeps into white and they hold one another tighter.


End file.
